Screaming Infidelities
by badomens
Summary: Flynn had never heard Yuri use those three words, even with his own family. College AU. Flynn X Yuri. Oneshot.


Author's Notes: College AU. I couldn't resist, especially after listening to Dashboard Confessionals _Screaming Infidelities_. Incidentally, that was the basis for this fic. I really wanted to write one where Yuri was the one to confess. I thought this would be a good time to post this since in my other fic _Legacy_, shit is about to get crazy.

Tales of Vesperia is property of Namco Bandai.

* * *

This was a mistake. He shouldn't even have been here. A week before, this party sounded like a great idea, but now, the very fact of him being here made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

He felt tethered to the couch, like a dog on a short leash. If he got up and walked around, people would talk to him, and he didn't really feel much like talking. At the same time, the couch unfortunately provided him the perfect, unobstructed view of the staircase. The person standing on that staircase wasn't looking at him now, but those charcoal eyes had glanced over at him once or twice already in the hour he had been there. The look in them was confusing, and yet something he knew strangely well. Cold happiness barely masking a deep undercurrent of pain. He had never seen those eyes so sullen and so fake, and he had never gone this long without speaking a single word to the person those eyes belonged too.

Flynn wasn't sure if Yuri was trying to stir something in him by being on the staircase, talking to a young man with a deep, bronze tan and light blond hair. It almost wasn't even talking, although he couldn't be certain with the volume of the music drowning out almost everything. It was flirting. Yuri was pinned against the wall, one of the blond's arms held at the level of his eyes, braced against the wall to keep him from escaping, but Yuri didn't mind at all. Every couple of moments there was a casual touch between them, fingers along a bare arm or one knee against another. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed a pleasant conversation. Every so often, the dark haired man raised his red plastic cup to take another gulp of whatever beverage he had concocted for himself in the kitchen. It was no doubt very alcoholic and sweet.

His own cup crinkled in his hand a bit as his fingers tightened and he forced himself to look away. His friend was allowed to do whatever he wanted, even if that involved flirting with strangers at a college party. He didn't care. He wasn't jealous.

"Hey, Flynn!"

He turned quickly to see another attendee of the party, a young lady with a pink bobbed haircut plop neatly down on the couch next to him. "Oh, hey, Estelle."

"Are you having fun?"

He took a sip of his soda while debating the truth of the answer. "Yeah. I'm having a great time." He smiled, but it was half-hearted at best.

"I'm really glad that you were able to make it. I know how busy you've been with studying and all."

He hadn't really been. He had tried, but this past week he had been so distracted that no matter what he did, it didn't help much. It didn't help much that his study partner had spent all wee

k avoiding even the briefest words with him.

"Is everything okay between you and Yuri?" The question seemed so sudden and he realized that he had gotten lost in the maze of his thoughts again.

It was a valid question, though. Surely, even slightly oblivious and naive Estelle had noticed their lack of interaction. "Yeah. Everything's fine." It was a lie.

Flynn was glad when the party was starting to wind down. It gave him an excuse to get out of that suffocating environment. As he was getting his keys, assuring Estelle that he had not had any alcohol and there was no reason to worry about him getting home, he spotted Yuri leaving as well. He was with the blond still, close enough to each other that it made Flynn uncomfortable, one of Yuri's arms hooked around the other man's. He didn't want to know where they were going or why, but at the same time he already knew, and he couldn't help but wonder if Yuri was going to be okay. He was definitely tipsy, although his graceful movements wouldn't belie a single trace of that. He thought momentarily about stopping him, but he didn't. They may have been friends, but Yuri was not stone cold drunk and was an adult able to make his own decisions, even if those involved shacking up with some stranger from a party. It wasn't his place to intervene, and he felt impotent because of that.

Flynn's drive home was short. He lived only a few blocks from the party, and really could have walked, but the sky had been threatening to break loose in a storm all evening, so he didn't chance it.

He parked, but didn't exit. He felt like he was glued inside his car, and he just sat there staring at the keys in his hand, numbly trying to figure out how to let himself out and how to get upstairs to get to bed. He sighed, pressing his head back into the driver's seat headrest. What had gone so wrong?

A week before, everything had been fine. Nothing between he and Yuri had changed in years. They had known each other since they were kids living on the same street. They had attended all the same schools, and even now in college, they took most of the same classes. The day that changed everything, though, had been a Friday just like any other, and they had been sitting outside the cafeteria between classes, enjoying lunch, listening to the radio. They talked about the party, about classes, about the upcoming semester, about everything just like they always did.

One moment they were talking about the results of a test in their math class, the next moment, Yuri leaned in. The few words that came out of his mouth into Flynn's ear drowned out everything else.

His reaction had been a fight or flight instinct, and he pushed his friend back, although it was less playfully than he intended. He hid his disgust over the statement behind a half smile. He hated joking like that, and he knew Yuri was prone to whatever joking would best fluster Flynn. He was a joker. He always had been.

But that week of awkward silence between them and the avoided conversations and glances told him that maybe this was not a joke. Maybe Yuri had been serious.

And Flynn's only reply had been:

"Yuri, that's gross. Don't mess around like that."

His intention hadn't been to hurt his friend's feelings, if that was indeed what happened. At the time, he honestly thought it was just supposed to be a cruel joke. He hadn't known his friend would cease speaking with him over a whole week, stand him up on two separate study sessions, and just not see him when they normally spent every waking moment together, as they had since childhood.

Flynn felt sick to his stomach suddenly, and he wished that he could have blamed it on alcohol. He sighed again. Why the hell did everything have to change so suddenly like that? What had brought on that sudden confession?

He resolved to finally get out of the car and go upstairs in favor of sleep to keep his mind from harassing him any further. A soft vibration in his pocket and then a ringing alerted him to a new text message on his phone. He reluctantly pulled it out and flipped it open. The little icon informed him that it was from the one person he least expected to be texting him in light of recent events. He wanted to ignore it as he had been ignored, but he couldn't resist reading it.

_Need a ride. Come get me. _What followed was an abbreviated address that wasn't too far.

It must have been important if Yuri was texting him. Hopefully, it was nothing too serious and he was just too drunk to find his way home. But he had left with that blond and what if something terrible had indeed happened? It would be uncaring of him to not go. They were still friends, in spite of the previous week, and if Yuri needed him, Flynn would be there. He should have stopped him from leaving the party. He should have done something, and now cold guilt was churning in his stomach, as well.

He started the car and headed toward the indicated address. It was a short drive to a row of fraternity houses lined up less than a mile from the college that they attended. The headlights of his car cast over a variety of other cars as he turned, and in between two of them he spotted Yuri. He stopped and unlocked the door.

Yuri slid easily into the passenger's seat and spoke the first words Flynn had heard from him all week. It was a harsh jab at him. "I'm surprised you showed up."

"I am still your friend, in spite of whatever you might believe."

He huffed softly in reply and stared out the window blankly.

Flynn took a good look at him out of the corner of his eyes. One of the audaciously red sneakers Yuri wore was missing, his belt was loose, and half of the buttons on the shirt he had been wearing at the party were missing. His black hair had come out of his usual ponytail and was resting across his shoulders. It could have been the darkness of the car, but he was sure that Yuri was now sporting a busted lip and the faintest traces of a black eye. Flynn could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"What happened?"

"Look, I'm not really in the mood to talk. I just wanna go home."

"Yuri..." He would persist until he got an answer, and Yuri knew that also.

He was quiet for a moment as Flynn pulled the car off the street and back to the main roads. "I changed my mind is all."

He didn't really want to think about what that meant, but he already knew. As soon as Yuri had left the party with the stranger, he knew what the intentions were. When Yuri changed his mind about the possible goings on, the stranger must not have reacted pleasantly.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine."

A few more minutes of driving found them at Yuri's apartment building, a run down little place in a less than savory part of town. As soon as they parked, the dark haired man's hand fumbled for the door handle, but in his drunkenness, it was eluding him. Flynn worried that it might not have just been the liquor, but perhaps the fight that followed that was scrambling his senses. He could have easily suffered a concussion.

Yuri groaned and gave up for a moment, his arm falling limply into his lap.

Flynn pulled the key out of the ignition, but didn't move for a moment.

The silence between them was unbearable. The air was weighing heavily on both of them.

"The other day... were you being serious?"

Half-lidded charcoal eyes tilted his way, looking through him as they always did, and then glanced away once more. "What do you think?"

His hands tightened around the rubber of the steering wheel. How could he have been so stupid? "I thought maybe that you had been joking..."

Yuri shrunk into the car seat, pulling his arms up tightly across his chest. It was as if he wanted to disappear. "If it disgusts you so much, then fine. Let's just go back to the way things were."

"We can't now. We can't just go back to that. Things... things have changed, Yuri."

He resumed his fight against the door that held him in the car. No doubt it had become uncomfortable for him also and he just wanted to be upstairs sleeping off his partying. Flynn finally got out of the car and went around to the passenger's side. He opened the door easily, and extended a hand to help Yuri out.

Yuri ignored this, and pulled himself out roughly, flailing a little, but refusing all help as was his style. He staggered across the pavement and nearly into a bush as Flynn locked the car and followed. He grabbed his arm and started to pull him toward the stairs.

"Let go of me."

"You'll never get to your place by yourself like this."

"I told you I'm fine!"

"Shaddup down there!" the scruffy building manager poked his head over his second story balcony and glared down at them with ice blue eyes before disappearing.

"Shaddup you, Old Man!" Yuri shouted back.

"He's already gone."

Yuri pulled away from him, grumbling and steadied his step as he headed up two or three stairs. It wasn't long before the spinning in his brain must have become too much and forced him to stop. In spite of further protests, he drug Yuri upstairs to his third floor apartment. It was a struggle getting his drunken friend up two flights of stairs. He fumbled for his keys, nearly dropping them but Flynn caught them and easily unlocked the door.

Yuri slumped against the wall of the foyer, kicking off his lone sneaker. "I'm home now. You can go."

"Not until I make sure you're okay." Flynn could see that it was indeed a bruise forming around Yuri's left eye. He put up quite a fight. He closed the door.

He groaned again and made his way into the tiny apartment and Flynn followed. As he rounded a corner of the hallway, he stopped abruptly to find Yuri standing in front of his toilet, his pants low on his hips, the bathroom door open. Those charcoal eyes peeked over his shoulder to glare at him.

"Can't a guy take a piss in privacy?"

"S-sorry." He wanted to complain about Yuri's inability to shut the door, but he was drunk and this was his apartment. He turned and pressed his back against the wall beside the door. "Um... can we talk?"

"The fuck do you wanna talk about?"

"Us. I mean..." Flynn sighed. He didn't know how to phrase the things he wanted to say. Words failed when it came to Yuri. Everything that he went over in his head time and time again dissolved and his turned into a bumbling idiot.

Yuri took a step out of the bathroom, leaning on the doorframe, watching him. "Did you think I would lie to you about something like that?"

"No! I-"

Yuri waved a hand at him. "Go home, Flynn. I need a shower."

"Say it again."

"Fuck you."

"Yuri, please."

"No. Now leave." He turned away, still using the doorframe to hold himself up. "It's gross, remember?" The bitterness in his tone cut him deep and he knew that when he had first used those ill-chosen words, they had cut Yuri too, maybe deeper than he would ever show.

"Look, I'm sorry. I thought you were joking. You've always been a prankster."

"That doesn't magically make things better. Saying you're sorry or pointless shit like that doesn't take it back." He hunched his shoulders, shrinking away again. "Just leave me alone."

It must have taken all of Yuri's strength to say it the once, and with that expended, he had nothing left but bitter emptiness. The words that he used in that moment, Flynn had never heard Yuri use them before, even when talking to his family. Those few simple words were so special and so important and Flynn had been the one to ruin them. It hadn't been a simple matter of hurting his feelings. He had stomped on them, spit on them, degraded them all in two simple sentences. It was stupid of him to expect to be forgiven so easily.

Words lost, thoughts failing, Flynn felt maybe acting would show Yuri the truth.

He took a quick step forward, catching the drunk off-guard, and pressed him into the bathroom door. Yuri swung at him just a second too late to not get caught up, pinned by hot lips and all of Flynn's weight against him. He pushed back, but Flynn held firm.

The moment Flynn pulled back to look at him, Yuri crumbled, sliding down the door and to his knees on the worn, peeling linoleum floor.

"Just go away, Flynn. I don't need your pity."

"Yuri, what I'm trying to say is-"

"Shut up!" He covered his ears.

Flynn knelt and wrapped his arms around him, even as Yuri fought to get away from him. "Please, just calm down."

His struggling calmed and he pulled his legs up to his chest. He buried his face in his knees, draping his arms over them. "Just quit playing with me. I'm so sick of this."

"I thought you knew and were just making fun of me. I had no idea... that you felt the same. I shouldn't have doubted you. I was stupid and I didn't mean it. All this week, I've been regretting those words that stomped on your feelings."

Yuri looked up at him just slightly from underneath his bangs, but said nothing.

"I love you, Yuri." He knew that saying that might not make anything better, but it couldn't make anything worse.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

The dark haired man groaned a little, curling into himself tighter. He ducked his head back down, hiding his face once more and hunching his shoulders. His fingers clung to the fabric of his jeans like he was holding on for dear life. "I don't even know why I like a jerk like you, anyway."

"You... still like me?"

"Of course, you idiot. It's not like I can easily just give up everything I've ever felt for you just because you decide to be a douchenozzle."

Flynn couldn't help but laugh, rolling back against the doorframe to keep from falling on the floor. He braced himself for a moment, just glad to be able to laugh for the first time in over a week. After a moment, his laughter calmed and his sides ached a little. Yuri was looking up at him a little again, his chin on his knees. He leaned in, brushing away a thin lock of silken black hair from between his eyes. "Can we try again? I promise I won't fuck it up this time."

Yuri let out a little sound, almost a murf.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"Whatever." The barest trace of red flushed Yuri's pale cheeks.

He didn't give him a chance to change his mind. Flynn pressed his lips against Yuri's, who moved into him with a little bit of stumble. As he pulled away to breathe, Yuri pulled him back, tilting his head and opening his mouth just a little to let Flynn in. When he could not respond for surprise, Yuri pushed him against the bathroom floor, deepening the kiss himself.

Finally catching up with the moment, Flynn pushed back, sending them both tumbling across the bathroom floor and into the shower. He pressed Flynn's shoulders against the tile wall, kneeling over him. He broke the kiss only for a second to take a quick breath before descending once more into the fray. Their hands fumbled, groping for each others, slipping against the smooth walls, against fabric. Flynn tangled his fingers in Yuri's hair, letting the silken strands slid easily across his hand while the feel of their lips together was maddening.

It surprised him when Yuri pulled back suddenly, pushing him away with the heel of his hand.

"Are you okay?"

Yuri rocked back quickly and wrenched himself out of the shower. He lurched, pulling himself over the toilet just in time to vomit. And with that, their woefully brief make out session was over.

Flynn crawled out of the shower and knelt beside his friend, pulling his hair out of the way. It was a few long moments before Yuri completely emptied his stomach of its contents. He wanted to complain about the amount of liquor his friend must have had to induce this, but by the time he finished, Flynn was just glad to sit there with him in a moment of solidarity. Yuri looked miserable, but that served him right. He groaned a little as Flynn brushed his hair back out of his face and touched his hand gently.

He stood, kissing Yuri on the forehead, before leaving to get him some pajamas to wear, a few tablets of aspirin, and a glass of water. He watched dutifully as he took the medicine and drank the water, and gave him a moment of privacy to change. He helped him to bed, where Yuri would be able to sleep off his drunkenness.

"I'm fine. Go home."

"Not a chance." Flynn sat down beside him.

Yuri didn't have the strength to fight back for once, and after a few moments, he drifted off to sleep under Flynn's watchful eye. He sat up and watched him all night, checking on him every so often to make sure that he was okay, up until Yuri kicked him out early the next morning.

He drove home to his own empty bed. It didn't feel as cold as it had, and he was glad to finally get a little rest. Flynn woke a little after noon, feeling better than he had in a week. The phone that served as his alarm clock was beeping with a new text message.

_Dinner at my place. 8:00. Making spaghetti. Be there._

He couldn't help but smile. He had been right. Things between them would never be the same again, but right now, he was okay with that.


End file.
